Tear Stains
by thegirlwhowaited411
Summary: Stevie, bullied at school and insecure about her body, is found by her best friend Bucky crying in a corner of his messy bedroom. His own heart breaking, Buck does his best to cheer her up. A bit of angst, a kiss or two, and a ton of fluff ensues. I took a ton of liberties with this one. Rocker!Bucky, Fem!Steve, Highschool!Steve, Modern au. Enjoy!


**Oh man, this is the first work that I have posted in months! It never would have been posted at all, but my mother who is an author and blogger has started a new project, posting about awesome fanfictions on her blog. (my mum's blog and the post will be linked to on my profile.)** **To kickstart it, she asked me to write her something that she could show the world. So, I dug around and found this gem. I am quite proud of it, though I will probably come back and edit it. Once I'm out of college I'mm probably even add a couple chapters. But, for now, it is a oneshot. I hope you all enjoy!**

 **Feel free to review and leave ideas for future chapters of this story. Maybe I'll be inspired to write some more. :)**

Bucky knew from the moment he got home that something was very wrong. It was late at night, and like usual he slipped into his and his best friend's apartment as quietly as possible. Late night gigs with The Howling Commandos normally resulted with Bucky finding Stevie asleep on the couch; she trying in vain to stay awake long enough to ask him how a show went. Tonight he closed the front door softly, hearing the lock click. The guitarist bent down to unlace his leather boots when he realized that the living room lights weren't on like usual. In fact, none of the apartment's lights were. Did Stevie make it home from school? He couldn't hear snoring. Bucky's chest constricted as he thought of his petite friend walking across Seattle without him. He hated leaving her alone to fend for herself whenever the band had a gig a couple hours away. It was three in the morning now; he'd left early the previous morning to drive down to Portland, Oregon. Who knows what kind of trouble his spunky pixie of a friend could have gotten into in that time!

"Stevie?" Bucky whispered, getting worried. No reply. He ditched his guitar case and duffel-bag by the front door in order to peek into the living room. Then the kitchen. No blonde punk to seen. Was she in her makeshift art studio? He slid on socked feet down the hall, past their shared bathroom to the last room on the bottom floor. He flicked the light on, his heart rate starting to rise. Nothing here except for paint, pencils and easels. "Stephanie?" He called again. A bit louder this time. He stood quietly, a darkly clad shadow in her bright art room, straining his ears to hear anything. There we go. Sniffling. Someone was upstairs sniffling, like they were trying not to cry.

She was home safe! Bucky wanted to cry out in relief. He walked down the hall, past the kitchen, and turned to climb the stairs leading to their two bedrooms. Out of habit he counted the steps, his left foot landing on the 15th (and last) stair. "Hey punk," he called softly, bringing his knuckles up to knock on her door, "are you in here?"

" away, Buck." A watery voice called out before his hand could connect with the wooden door. He backed up and turned towards his own bedroom where her voice bad sounded was she doing in there?

"Nah. It's my room, I'm coming in." Bucky said with as light a voice possible, and entered into his own space.

Stevie was sitting in the corner of his room on an office chair, crammed between his closet and the window overlooking a busy Seattle street. The room was dark except for the desk lamp by her side, illuminating the distraught figure of Stephanie Rogers. Her long blonde hair was down, an oddity as she always kept it up in a ponytail or tucked under on of Bucky's many hats. It hung like a veil around her face, casting shadows and making her face seem long and hollow. She continued to sniffle, keeping her face away from Bucky by hiding herself in a ball.

Bucky had never seen Stevie in a skirt before. She was wearing an old sweatshirt grey sweatshirt decorated by her school mascot, with a turquoise blue knee length skirt, with the cutest striped socks he had ever seen. Her knees were drawn up and her arms criss-crossed around her legs, effectively saving Bucky's eyebrows knit together. For their entire lives together, Stevie had always been the jeans and tee-shirt kind of gal. It's not like he objected, what she wore was her business. And she was still her cute little pixie self no matter clothes she had on, What had prompted the change? "Stevie, I'm going to turn on the light, okay?"

A muffled "okay" escaped her curled form. His hand scrambled around on the wall until his fingers found the light switch and flicked it on. His bedroom was crammed full of band posters, wrinkled clothes, and books stacked high on every available surface. The only clean surfaces were his bed and the desk. The desk which had a shot glass and an almost full bottle of vodka (Which Nat had left as a birthday present a couple weeks back). Aw Sh-t. He strode over to his desk, picking up the bottle with his left hand.  
"Have you been drinking?"  
Her blonde head nodded, still not looking at her friend.  
"You know you're a lightweight Stevie." A sigh escaped the talk brunette rocker. He kneeled infront of her, bottle back on the desk, his hands reaching out to grab her feet. She squirmed, pushing herself further into the chair.  
"I know."

"What's wrong Stevie?"

"Nothing. Go away."

"We both know it's not nothing." His fingertips fumbled to brush her hair away from her face. "Come on , talk to me. Did I do something wrong?"

"No..." She said, finally looking up with her big blue eyes. Bucky's heart got stuck in his throat. Tear stains trailed down her cheeks, black mascara smudged around her eyes.

"What's wrong Stevie?" He whispered again.

"I effed up Buckie. I really did today."  
Bucky stood up then, pulling Stevie up as well by her elbows.  
"Come here squirt." He smiled sadly, pulling her into a hug.

Stevie relaxed into her friend's warm embrace, hidden inside his leather jacket and breathing in his signature Bucky Barnes musk. She was sad, and angry, and absolutely ready to just give up. Nothing ever went right for her. Life was out to destroy her scrawny little behind,wasn't it? High school was absolute hell without Buck following her around. She may be older than him, but all of her health problems had pushed her two grades behind her age group. One grade behind Bucky. Stevie wrapped her arms around his waist, and tears let loose all over again.  
"Hey hey hey, it's okay, it's okay. Shhhhh, Stevie; I've got you. It's okay."  
It's not okay, it is never okay, no matter how much Stevie tries. She can't help it... She was born not okay. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Oh Bucky.

"You wouldn't understand."

"I bet I could do a lot more good than a bottle of booze. Try me." He said teasingly into her hair. Bucky buried his nose into her hair, sniffing in the trace smell of strawberry shampoo.

"I...I tried dressing like a girl today."

"I noticed." He said with a chuckle. Stevie wilted. It wasn't funny.

"No... You don't get it. I actually tried looking like a normal girl today... Padded bra and all." Bucky stiffened slightly, this was unchartered territory. Girl stuff.

"Girls do that?"

"Only when they don't have boobs in the first place..." Bucky tutted his tongue, pulling away slightly to look Stevie in the eye. She had to tilt her head up to make eye contact. She always had. She hadn't grown in years.

"Aw Stevie, you don't need to do that." He didn't get it.

"Yes I did Bucky. You're the only one in the world who actually registers that I'm female."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are! and I'm sick of it." She broke away from him, leaving a cold space on his chest where she once was nestled away. Stevie made her way back to her vodka, managing to down another shot before Bucky ripped the glass out of her hands.

"Oh no you don't, Darling. You don't know the meaning of a hangover."  
"Give it back Buck!"  
"No. Not until we're done talking."  
"Fine!" Bucky sat down on his bed, shoving his pillow out of the way. Stevie was apparently an angry emotional drunk. The less things within reach she could throw at him when angry, the better. He looked around his room, for possible projectiles. He determined that he owned too many hardcover books. "You, Mr. Bucky Barnes, the boy without blemish, a freakin normal human being without any health problems to speak of... Have no idea what ridicule I go through every single day." Stevie was walking around his room now, a tensed up spring of energy. Bucky sat in silence, letting her vent.

" and since you've graduated, all those jerks aren't scared to humiliate me any more."

"Oh Stevie." This was what he'd always been afraid of. "I'm sorry."

"They don't beat me up any more. Oh no. They've seen me throw a right hook at you before." She spun around, the blue skirt flying around her legs. "The past two weeks have been the entire class body ignoring me entirely. Those who do take time to look down and see me think I'm a boy. I'm not a boy, Bucky. Even though I look like one." He pursed his lips, watching his friend rant. Tears were building up again, Stevie could feel it. She hated feeling weak. Bucky never got to see her like this. But today sucked balls, and Bucky's room was a safe place to hide. Until he got home that is. Now she couldn't help throwing her frustration through angry alcohol induced words at her best friend and his poster plastered walls. Tears streamed down her face, dripping onto Bucky's old school sweatshirt, and her feet stomped over his dirty clothes. He was just sitting there, stiff as a board, watching her with those gorgeously stupid eyes of his and not saying anything. Why wouldn't he say anything?

"I had enough!I was sick of Rumlow and Pierce and all of his goons teasing me, you know? I wanted to prove that I as more than that scrawny orphan kid from Brooklyn. If I looked normal for a day, acted like a girl for a day, them maybe they'd get off my back about being... Ugly, and tomboyish, and a pipsqueak who'd be better of in kindergarten playing in the sandbox with their baby brothers than in the halls of high school." Stevie stopped pacing, turning away from Bucky so that he couldn't see the shame on her face.

"So I dressed up today. Nat let me borrow some things from her. She took me to Khol's and we found a couple bra's last night before she left for your gig. I've... never bought a bra before. I'm really not a bows and frills kind of gal. More the Baggy shirts and jackets; you know? Easier to hide behind..." Bucky didn't know, not really. Why would she hide?" but I've gained weight, I don't look so sick any more! Not since we learned I was actually allergic to gluten and switched my diet. There's some meat on my bones. Nat said I looked pretty... I was so proud of myself, Bucky. For a moment I felt like a normal human being. Nat bought me a padded lacy bra. I felt so girly in it today; god that is so embarrassing to admit to you, but I was so sure I couldn't be mistaken for a prepubescent boy. I didn't feel like one at all."  
Her voice became quieter.

"The boys and their stupid cheerleader girl friends harassed me, Buck. The girls during p.e in the locker room. They couldn't believe I was wearing such feminine underthings. They kept saying I was trying too hard, and would never look normal. I tried to brush of their taunts, I really did." Her shoulder shook from silent sobs and Bucky wanted more than anything to pull her into his embrace again. He was so angry. No one messed with Stevie. Only he was allowed to mess around with the little punk, because she knew he was only teasing. He was about to get up and smother her with a Bucky Barnes Bear Hug, when she started speaking again, barely a whisper. "Rumlow though,he heard about my new clothes from his girlfriend Patricia, I think. He found me alone in the hall, during my free period. Pierce and Him were waiting for me."

Stevie heard Bucky give a low guttural growl from behind her. "Did they touch you?" Her friend said slowly, shaking in anger. The blonde girl froze. God, did they beat Stevie up again? Or worse, force themselves on her? His eyes widened at the horrible scene playing out in his head. His girl was a fighter, but taking on two football players at once? She wouldn't stand a chance. Bucky's entire body was tense. He had to do something. The rocker stood up, thoroughly intending to find Pierce and Rumlow. He was going to kill them. He was going to make them cry for mercy. His fingers twitched, itching for a fight. Stevie would be avenged.

"No... No Buck, they didn't they did the exact opposite." Huh? Stevie sunk to the floor then, facing the bedroom door, her hair once again hiding her face from Bucky's view. "They didn't lay a finger on me."

"What did they do, Steph?" He asked finally after a pregnant pause, using her real name. He was in big brother protector mode now.

"You're going to think I'm such a wuss." She murmured, fiddling with her socks to pull them up to her knees again. They had slipped during her rant around the room. The black and white striped stockings belonged to Natasha Romanov, a friend of hers and Bucky's, so they of course were too big. Even the skirt was being held up with a belt. Stevie wasn't super curvy and sexy like Nat. She never would be.

"I would never think such a thing." Bucky's voice had lost it's gravelly growl, but it was still low enough to send shivers up her spine. It was wrong to be attracted to her best friend. But everything he did affected her. He was the sun to her moon. Admitting what she was about to was going to sink her down even further into self-humiliation and embarrassment.

"Yea you would."

"I swear on my left arm that I think you are the least wussiest person alive on the goddamned planet. Please, Stevie." He was down on the ground now, having slid off his bed moments previous. "What did they do?" She took a deep, shuddering breath.

"They said things."

"Like what?"

"That no matter how hard I tried, I would never look pretty like a normal girl. That I'd never be good enough. I'd always look like... myself, and no boy is ever going to...to want me." Bucky's heart bled for his broken Stevie. He had no idea how much pain she went through. The little artist rarely ever shared her feelings. He felt like crying along with her.

Stevie felt the warm pressure of one of his palms sink onto her shoulder. She wanted so badly to lean into it, but that wouldn't be right.  
"Don't believe them. They... They have no idea what they're talking about." He said defiantly.

"They kept saying I'd die alone and unloved. Never to be kissed." Stevie sniffled, bringing a wrist up to wipe her runny nose. "They're right, you know. Boys never take a second glance at me. They like those leggy, curvy girls in the magazines. Someone like Nat. Not me. I'm barely 92 pounds. I've never been on a date. Never been kissed. God, am I that undesirable?" She never felt more worthless than she did right now, sitting on the messy floor of Bucky's bedroom, tears dripping like rain off of her chin. "I keep telling myself they have to be wrong... That there's someone out there who wouldn't care that I'm barely 5 feet tall, or am only a cup size A, or seem to have had every affliction known to mankind before turning twenty. But... It doesn't seem like it."

Bucky couldn't handle it any longer. His best friend since 5th grade felt worthless, unloved. She was swimming in a pool of unhappiness that made him want to shrivel up and die inside, while simultaneously punching a wall, and kissing her until all the pain went away. He loved her. Bucky Barnes loved his best friend Stephanie Rogers and nothing on the world was going to keep him from telling her now. Not if she felt like this. All of his previous concerns were out the window. To hell if she decided she hated him, or moved out, or didn't want to be friends any more. He needed his little artist more than life itself, and she needed to know it right now.

"Stephanie, look at me." When she refused to move, Bucky used both of his hands to scoot her body around. "Please?" He pleaded. Stevie relented; her blue tear filled eyes rising to meet his own. His fingers reached out and grasped her dainty palms, now resting on her shins. " Don't you dare ever listen to those two dunceheads ever again, or anyone who ever says those things. They are all untrue. Do you know why?" She stayed silent, staring at him like a broken doll. "Because you are the most life filled, energetic, artsy, graceful, spunky, beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, funny, and caring punk I've ever met. There is no one as perfect in this world as you are."

"But-"

"Shhh. Listen to me. You don't need to dress a certain way, or wear frilly underwear to prove that you are a girl. Already, you are the most amazing young woman I have met. Anyone who says otherwise is as blind and deaf as a rock." Stevie stayed silent for a long time,nmulling over his words. His light blue eyes roamed over her face, taking in every single detail, right down to each pale freckle on her nose. His thumbs reached up to wipe away her smeared eye makeup.

"Do you really mean that, Buck?" His gaze was so gentle. If Stevie could put a name to it later, she would say he looked mesmerized. His hands fell to cradle her jaw line.

"Of course I do. Why do you think I've stuck around so long?" He seemed so close now, their knees almost touching. He had to tilt her head up to keep looking at him. "I fell in love with my beautiful best friend years ago. That punk has had me wrapped around her little finger ever since she punched Carly Davis in the face for making fun of my long hair." Stevie could barely breathe. Where was her inhaler when she needed it? Bucky? Love her? It was absolutely absurd, but she wanted it so desperately to be true.

"Really?" She breathed. Her alcohol-laced breath tickled his nose. Reality came crashing down for Bucky. Stevie was drunk. He had just proclaimed his love to her... Would she even remember in the morning? Oh God, what if he just gave all of that up for nothing, and he carried this conversation with him for the rest of his life while Stevie carried on blissfully unaware? That would be hell. He nodded to answer her question, scared to speak any more. "Oh Buck!" She sobbed, pulling him into a hug. They sat on his floor, clinging to one another, salty tears mingling on the carpet. Eventually Stevie found enough calm to be able to speak again. " James Buchanan Barnes..."

"Yea Steph?"

"Kiss me." She clung to the lapels of his leather jacket, nose buried in the crook of his neck. Bucky pulled away softly, brushing her hair behind her ears. He wanted more than anything to do just that, had for years. But she was intoxicated. It wouldn't be right. Not now.

"You're drunk Stevie, it wouldn't be right for me to take advantage of you like that." He watched in agony as her bottom lip trembled.

"I... I hate you!" She wailed, standing up so suddenly Bucky swayed to keep from falling over.

"No, no, Stevie don't say that. God, no, Stevie-" She turn and ran, slamming his bedroom door shut behind her fleeing form. Bucky scrambled to get up and chase after his girl. There was no way in hell she was getting away. He didn't have to go far. His sock covered feet slid down the hardwood hall to her bedroom door. He opened it and barely had time to duck before her pillow came flying at his cranium.

"Go away, Buck. I don't need you!"

"But I need you Stevie. I am not going anywhere. You can't make me." Stevie was buried in her bed, a human shaped burrito in her red, white, and blue comforter.

"Fine, but I'm not talking to you."

Bucky padded over to a bean bag chair sitting by the head of her bed and plopped down into it.

"That's okay. I'll be here when you feel sober enough to do so."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"I love you, Stephanie."

"Shut up."

"No."

"Yes."

"James Barnes you will be quiet and let me cry myself to sleep or so help me I'm going to-"

"Good night, punk."

"You complete jerk."

"You complete me." They sat, or laid, in their respective positions for who knows how long, just listening to each other breathe. Stevie's analog clock blinked 3:07 am when Bucky glanced at it for the third time. He would not fall asleep. He absolutely refused to until she did. An hour past, and the human burrito still had not started to snore. She was too strung up, thinking about the previous day's events. The people at her high school were absolute Sh-t, that much was certain. But they were wrong. She was pretty! Nat had said so, and Nat always told the truth. Bucky never lied to her either. The cocky boy from the orphanage she'd fallen in love with all those years ago loved her back. It was unbelievable! But the words came out of his own mouth, so they were absolutely true.

The blonde shifted under the covers, maneuvering into a spot comfortable enough to get a look at her clock. 4:59. She sighed, reveling in how clear her lungs felt. Her alcohol buzz was gone. Bucky hadn't realized the one shot he'd seen her take was her only shot. Nat had snuck some after their shopping excursion, making the bottle seem more empty. Stupid Bucky, being chivalrous over nothing. The atmosphere in her bedroom still felt tense, though it had been four hours since Bucky had come in. He was still awake, Stevie could tell by his breathing. She finally broke the silence.

"I don't hate you Bucky." A pause.

"I know."

"I am also not drunk."

"Has the hangover kicked in yet?"

"I didn't drink enough to get one." At least not a bad one.

"You sure?" Bucky asked, worried.

"I am." She rolled over, releasing her burrito figure and flipping the covers off. "So shut up and get over here."

"Wh...what?"

"You heard me. I can't sleep, it's cold, and I. Need. You." Stevie was putting all of her courage into that statement. If he denied her this, she'd be shattered beyond bits. Slowly he stood up. In the darkness the sound of his leather jacket falling to the floor reached her ears, and something akin to triumph welled up within her.

"Scoot over." He all but commanded. Stevie obliged, scooting towards the wall. His weight lowered the mattress and instantly the night seemed a bit warmer. He pulled the covers over their bodies, shifting a bit to get comfortable. Bucky was so close. He took up most of the bed, and Stevie gave in. How could she not?She rolled over and nestled herself into his side, praying he wouldn't leave. Anything but that. A muscular arm wrapped itself around her torso immediately, and a soft sigh escaped her lips. Bucky's other hand started to comb through her messy mop of hair. She snuggled even closer; he knew that head rubs were her ultimate weakness.

"Mmmm, if you keep doing that, I will love you forever." She purred, content in his arms. He shifted again, this time onto his side so that he could make out the outline of her beautiful face.

"Do you?" He asked, his voice vibrating in his chest and rolling through Stevie's bones. " Do you think you could ever love me back?" She rolled over so that their noses were touching and their bodies almost flush together.

"I already do, Buck. You silly boy. I already do." Bucky's eyes crinkled as he smiled the cheesiest grin she had ever seen grace his scruffy face, he was beautiful, in his own rebel kind of way. She reached up to play with his stubble, like she had always wanted to do, but had been too scared to do so. Stevie wasn't prepared when he closed the small distance between them and captured her first kiss for himself.

He was so warm and soft, she thought vaguely, concentrating more on the shape of his lips pressed against hers and the electricity now pulsing through her veins. Her fingers grazed through his hair, so very long. Bucky moaned the slightest bit at the touch, surprising Stevie. Was that normal for a kiss? They broke away; far too soon as both were concerned. Bucky was now looming over Stevie, propped up on his elbows, gazing down with adoration. She had the sweetest smile, and it was all for him. He should have done this years ago. "I just had my first kiss." She half-whispered in awe.

"I reckon you just did." He said, dipping down to kiss her again. She squeaked in surprise, leaving Bucky's heart doing flips. "And there's your second." Tears were starting to form in her eyes again. Oh no, please don't be sad again, what is it now? He thought with rising panic. He had nothing to worry about though, as she pulled him down for a hug.

"You are absolutely amazing, do you know that?" She yawned into the collar of his shirt. Bucky grinned, licking his lips to reply.

"Of course I do, I'm the one and only Bucky Barnes." She smacked him lightly upside the head, a common action.

"You cocky jerk!"

"You beautiful punk." Bucky felt her yawn again. "Come on, you're tired. Get some sleep."

"But what if this is all a dream?" Bucky frowned, rubbing small circles into her back with his thumbs.

"I promise you it isn't. I'll be right here when you wake up. Okay?" The room filled with silence.

He was answered back moments later with a familiar snore.


End file.
